


The Darkness Within

by Black_Zora



Category: Lost Boys (1987)
Genre: Horror, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Vampire Turning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 01:49:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2006400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black_Zora/pseuds/Black_Zora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Paul is fed up with his life, he finds his way to Santa Carla, as so many young people do. But there are things lurking in the shadows, and they want him to be part of their darkness ... - Slash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The Lost Boys, sadly, do not belong to me. All rights go to their respective owners.

It wasn't that Paul hated people. He simply didn't care about them. As far as he was concerned, they could live or die, it was all the same to him.

Things hadn't always been like this. But now they were, and, frankly, he didn't bother trying to change his perception or anything. Why should he? Living without caring was painless – well, almost. At least it was better than constantly hurting.

Paul wasn't a runaway kid. In fact, he had made it his purpose in life to stay with his family, or what was left of it, for as long as was humanely possible. But even with him trying mightily hard, there had come a point when he just couldn't take it anymore. He had left the small Midwestern town were he had grown up and made his way to California. He was twenty-three by then – technically a man.

Paul had missed out on many things in his childhood and youth though, so as soon as he decided to pack his things and go, he also decided that he would make it his goal in life to make good on that with a vengeance. So when he arrived at a certain Californian town in the summer of 1985, he lost no time at all and dove right in, headfirst into that neon-bright, fevered madness that was Santa Carla.

_'If we are to fall in the abyss, then let's jump into it dancing and laughing!'_ was his new motto. And he certainly lived up to it. The very first night, he got so drunk and stoned that he barely remembered his own name. Alternating between drifting about on cloud no. 9 and the creepy feeling that something dark was lurking in each corner, something evil living in every shadow he passed on unsteady feet, he made his way from the Boardwalk down to the beach. There were bonfires burning everywhere, music from portable stereos intermingling with raucous laughter, people dancing in the red light, weaving in and out of the shadows, their edges blurring till Paul had to close his eyes and shake his head repeatedly in a vain attempt to clear it.

He made a few more stumbling steps in the direction of the shoreline. 'Onwards, Christian soldiers,' he thought, and laughed out loud at the absurdity of it.

But, no, it wasn't an absurdity, was it? He had actually done some time in the troops, and he had hated it, hated it, _hated_ it with all his heart and his entire guts. In hindsight, he couldn't even say for sure why he had joined the forces for two years in the first place. Maybe because of his father … or maybe not.

And he had been raised Christian, right? Even if it all, if everything they had told him, had been revealed to be one big, fat, fucking lie … in the end, when everything had unraveled.

'But we don't wanna go there, do we?' Paul thought, anger welling up inside him like bubbling milk, tinged with the red shine of the bonfires. 'No, we don't!'

Instead, he continued on his way to the shore, away from the beach parties, out into the dark, to where the waves licked at the sand, black and gray in the night. As he reached the water, a chill ran up his spine, or rather crept from the small of his back up to his neck like a ghostly finger traversing over his skin.

"Man, it _is_ cold here," he mumbled to himself. In spite of the chill, he sat down in the sand, then realized it was wet, but somehow didn't find it in him to rise again.

"Ah, fuck," he whined. All of a sudden, he felt like crying. He shouldn't have thought of his freaking family. No, he really shouldn't have. And, ah, what freaks they were … Real, freaking freaks, the whole lot of them …

"You look lonely."

Paul nearly jumped out of his skin. The voice had spoken directly into his ear, yet he had heard no one approaching. He whipped his head around – but no one was there. Yet he heard something that sounded like taunting laughter on the wind.

'I had way too much,' Paul thought. 'I have to get back to my bike and find a place to crash, before I fall asleep on the beach and get carried away by the tide or robbed or worse …'

"Too late my friend, too late, but never mind …" the voice from before said. Its tone was quite mocking.

"Yeah … All your trials, love, will soon be over …" another voice chimed in, before it changed into a cackling, evil laughter.

Quickly, Paul turned his head this way and that. He was close to panicking now. Where were these guys hiding? What did they want with him? How could he –

Then something _grabbed_ him from _above._ Paul yelped in shock, but a hand came up over his mouth and cut him off before he could start screaming in earnest. Its fingers were cold and clammy and unyielding like a vice. They didn't feel human at all – or maybe like a corpse's fingers in rigor mortis might feel. Paul's heart was literally dropping to … well, maybe down to the beach far below, damn, _very_ far below!

'Oh God, what's happening …!'

Then there was a nasty, tearing pain at the side of his neck. Something was ripping him open, and it _hurt_! Paul tried to free his head from the vice-like grip. But as he moved, another wave of pain shot through his neck and down his spine through his whole body, so he immediately ceased his struggling, crying out in both agony and fear against the clammy hand that was still placed firmly over his mouth.

'Please, God, no …' His thoughts were rambling. 'Don't, please don't … God, what's _happening_? Fuck, it _hurts_ … What _is_ that thing? Fuck, I'm going to _die_. No … no, no, _no_! Please, _don't_ …'

Abruptly, the hold the … the _thing_ had on his face loosened a little.

"Don't be so scared …" Ice-cold breath ghosted over his cheek. It probably felt even colder than it really was since Paul's skin was wet with his blood.

"I'm actually saving you, you know … from a shitty, boring, frustrating, meaningless life. Aren't you glad that your death at least is meaningful – meaning that it keeps me going?" It cackled again, but it sounded a little less evil than before. Actually, the thing seemed to be in a quite content mood.

All of a sudden, Paul felt very sleepy. He had to fight to keep his eyes open. The pain had lessened, drumming like a fluttering heartbeat in the back of his mind. "But I don't wanna die …" he argued feebly.

"Of course you don't," the thing answered, good-natured. "Who ever does?"

Paul felt cold lips on his neck, then a wet tongue that was equally cold. The thing was licking up his blood.

"Hmmm … you taste good."

More licking. Paul was too tired to feel disgusted by it.

"Maybe I've changed my mind … Maybe I won't kill you … yet. – David? Can't I keep him for a while? Pretty pleeease? At least for another night? Ah, man, come on … you know I'm bored out of my skull …"

The voice that had first spoken to Paul answered something to the thing's plea, but Paul couldn't make out the words. Everything was blurring – sound, vision … A warm and fuzzy feeling came over him. All at once, he was no longer afraid.

Then everything went black.

xXxXxXx

"Wakey, wakey …"

"Gah …"

Paul's head felt like a brewing watermelon that was ready to burst. It took him a huge effort to force his eyelids open – and he immediately wished he hadn't bothered. There was a … a … well, it wasn't a man, and it wasn't a boy, and it most definitely wasn't even human. The thing was perched over him, balancing on the backrest of an old, moldy-looking leather-couch on which Paul himself was lying, and it was sporting a set of shining white teeth with insanely sharp and dangerous looking canines and second front teeth, grinning down at him … hungrily, Paul dared say.

"I'm not a _thing_ ," the thing complained. It sounded whiny. "I'm a vampire."

Ah, so that was it, right?

'A vampire. Sure.'

The only problem Paul saw with this was that _vampires didn't exist_. Period. So, naturally, he would treat this as a bad trip – even though he never had experienced anything remotely like this from weed or booze.

'I really, really, _really_ shouldn't smoke that much.'

The vampire snickered in amusement. Wait, could it read his thoughts?

The answer was still more snickering.

"And I'm not an _it_. I'm male. Shall I prove it to you?" It made an obscene movement with its hips. Okay, _his_ hips. Paul certainly didn't want it … him … to prove anything along those lines.

"I even have a name. I'm Marko. Marko with a k."

Marko with a k? Didn't his parents know how to spell? Wait – did vampires even have parents?

The vampire … Marko … growled at him. "It's Slovenian, dipshit. The Slavic version of the Latin name Marcus. Just so you know, Paulie-boy. – You know what, David? If we turned him, we could go as the two Evangelists …"

"There usually are four of them, Marko. And Paul's an Apostle, not an Evangelist. And he isn't even one of the Twelve." The voice that came from somewhere in the dark sounded cold and disinterested. It was the one that had spoken to Paul first, back on the beach. As he looked for the source of it, the enormity of the room they were in registered with Paul for the first time. Actually, the place looked more like a cave than a building, although there were building-like structures in it – support beams, for one. It was almost completely dark, but a dim light fell in through a hole in the roof, and there was a fire burning in an old oil-barrel close to the couch.

"I _know_ that there are four of them! – We didn't want you to freeze, Paulie-boy," Marko said, at the exact same time Paul felt the vampire descend on him. For a surreal moment, it was almost as if a bird had landed on him. Marko seemed completely weightless as he straddled Paul's thigh. Wait – straddled his thigh?! He should never have taken his eyes off the creature in the first place! What did it … Marko … want now? Paul hoped that this trip would end very soon.

'In fact, it should end right here and now …'

"I hate to shatter your illusions," Marko said in a silky voice, "but this is not a trip." Then he leaned forward and licked over Paul's face once, like a dog – only that he didn't seem to mean it in an affectionate way.

"Oh, but I _am_ quite affectionate with you – otherwise you would already be very dead indeed."

This was probably meant to be comforting, but Paul felt anything but soothed by it. And he still refused to believe that this was not a trip. The thought was just too scary.

Marko made an exasperated sound. "You humans are so damn complicated … Look at me."

Paul obeyed, if unwillingly.

"Am I hurting you right now?"

To that, Paul could honestly say no. He was disquieted and a little scared, even if this was only some sort of trip, but he wasn't hurting. Well, apart from his head, that was. And shouldn't there be a freaking, gaping hole in his neck? That sure must hurt like hell?

Someone leaned over him and Marko. It was a young man, and he looked quite normal, not monster-like at all. He had dark eyes and dark hair, and he held a bottle of water in his hand. "Let him up, Marko. – Here, you should empty this. You've lost a lot of blood. It's no wonder your head's hurting like a bitch."

Marko actually leaned back and moved a little to the side, so that Paul could sit up and take the bottle. He felt quite dizzy when doing so. And, man, he _was_ thirsty. He screwed off the lid and drank in big gulps. It tasted wonderful.

"If I'm not hurting you, why are you so edgy?" Marko whined. "I mean, can't you just stay in the moment? It's really not that complicated, is it? As long as you're not hurting and you're watered and fed, you should be content, right?"

"Stop being obnoxious, Marko, and give the guy some space to breathe. You were scared too, even if you choose not to remember."

Finally, Paul laid eyes on the source of the cold voice. It belonged to an imposing guy clad all in black with a bleach-blond mullet. Just like the others, he had sneaked up on Paul without making any sound at all. Paul instantly knew that this was the leader of the pack.

"That's right," the guy said. "I'm David. And you really have nothing to worry about. The ones who make it as far as the cave are always treated much nicer – especially if they have drunk the blood."

Paul was confused. He couldn't remember drinking anything but the water, not for the life of him – and certainly he hadn't drunk blood!

"You were barely conscious then," David explained. "In fact, you were barely alive." And just like that, he strolled out of Paul's line of sight again.

Paul gulped. If this was real …

"Hey … hey, David, wait …? Please?" he croaked. By and by, the reality of the situation was sinking in. He was in real deep shit that he hadn't even began to grasp. Something icy was traveling through his body, gripping his stomach and clenching it.

"Yeah?" David asked dispassionately.

"What … what exactly do you mean by 'treated much nicer'?" Paul's voice was barely above a frightened whisper.

There was a pause. Then David answered from out of the shadows: "Don't worry." Maybe he had intended on a calming tone, but Paul still only heard disinterest and coldness in it.

"When it happens, it won't be too bad," David said. "You have my word on it."

Paul really couldn't care less.


	2. Chapter 2

"So … so what do you want with me?" Paul asked hesitantly. His question was mainly directed at Marko, who was still sitting on top of him. He was really light as a bird – verbatim. As if his bones or even his whole body were hollow, nothing more to it than what was outwardly visible – an empty shell. Paul shivered involuntarily at the thought.

It was David who answered though. "How about food?"

Paul felt his heart sink.

"Not as in eating _you_ , dipshit." Marko gave him a light, playful shove that felt like being hit by a freight train and which threw Paul back into the horizontal, his bones creaking in protest and the last water from the bottle spilling all over his chest. How on earth could this creature be almost weightless and yet so freaking strong?!

"David means 'food' as in getting something to eat for all of us, yourself included," the dark-haired guy explained. He must have stepped out of the shadows without Paul noticing _yet again_ , for he was rather and disquietingly close to the couch all of a sudden. How did they do that?!

"We do eat human food too. Only it doesn't sustain us," the dark-haired one said. "And my name's Dwayne, by the way. – Do you like pizza? For pizza, I'd play delivery boy." He smiled at Paul. It was a fairly normal, friendly-looking smile. Why couldn't Marko, who had obviously taken an interest of whatever kind in Paul, be as nice and civil as this guy?

"Yeah, Marko, why can't you be?" David chuckled from rather a distance away. He was moving about the cave with a torch in his hand, setting more oil-barrels ablaze. With each lit barrel, the shadows crept further back, leaving the cave in a warm, ever changing light. "Come on now, store away that freak-face of yours and play nice for a change. Can't you see that you're scaring him shitless? He'll be no fun if he's too frightened to do anything at all."

Marko made an indignant sound – and then, just like that, his features smoothed over and transformed into that of normal-looking guy of maybe nineteen or twenty years of age. Paul was so shocked that he almost forgot to breathe. Now _that_ had to be the epitome of a two-faced person! When Marko smiled at him, he still looked creepy as hell though.

"So … do you like mushrooms?"

Paul blinked at Dwayne. "Whatever …" he said weakly.

Dwayne shrugged and went off, supposedly to get them chow. Paul was glad that this time, he himself didn't seem to be on the menu.

Marko jabbed a finger into Paul's stomach to get his attention back. "Will you behave if I move off of you?" the vampire asked, tilting his head quizzically.

Paul nodded. He felt numb and defenseless. What were they expecting him to try in a cave full of bloodsucking, supernaturally strong monsters who could read minds? Surely, there wasn't much he could have done … In fact, was there _anything anyone_ could do against them?

At that exact thought, David's face appeared over Paul from out of nowhere. He barely suppressed a yelp.

"Sit up," David ordered quietly and offered him a hand gloved in black leather. With some hesitation, Paul took it. He felt a surge of energy run through him as the vampire gripped his hand, and he would have let go if not for David's unyielding hold on him. Their eyes met, and David smiled down upon him. Like with Marko, it was a rather creepy smile.

Then the vampire leader pulled him up effortlessly. "Relax," he said, still gripping Paul's hand. "Be our guest. This night, you've nothing to fear from us."

With a final squeeze that might have been an encouragement or a warning or both, he let go of Paul.

'And what about next night?' Paul thought.

"Tonight's tonight, and tomorrow's tomorrow – and tomorrow never knows," David brushed him off. Paul barely noticed anymore if one of them answered to his thoughts or his spoken words.

"Marko, how about some music?"

Paul drew his eyes away from David with an effort, trying to make out what Marko was doing in some dark crevice of the cave where he seemed to be rummaging about. A moment later, he emerged with a ghetto blaster in one hand and a cassette rack in the other.

"The Beatles _yet again_?" Marko said in a huff. "Can't we have something a bit more up to date?"

He fell silent at a glance of his leader and, sighing, began to search through the cassettes. Shortly after, the first beats of Helter Skelter sounded through the cave.

David pulled a chair over to the couch where Paul was seated. Only at the second glance did he realize that it was an astoundingly old wheelchair that must have been 'up to date' at the turn of the century.

"Do you like the Beatles?" David asked, and had Paul completely taken aback by his question. A freaking _vampire_ was asking him whether he liked the freaking _Beatles_!

"You're absolutely sure I'm not tripping?" he asked hopefully.

At this, David laughed out loud. "No," he chuckled. "No, Paul, you're not."

"Then … is this like Twenty Questions or something? And … if I win, can I go?"

David shook his head. "Just answer my question."

Paul took a deep breath. What choice did he have? There was nothing but playing along, and since these guys could read his thoughts, he'd better play fair and tell the truth. "Yeah," he said. "I do like the Beatles. But I prefer the songs they made during and after Revolver to their earlier stuff. And I think that Sixties music is cool in general."

David just nodded, and before he could ask anything else, they were distracted by Dwayne who slithered down the steep entry of the cave with a stack of pizza boxes in his hands. He must have flown to be back so quickly … and then Paul realized that he probably had.

Dwayne handed David the first box, then the second to Paul and the third to Marko.

Paul opened his carton – it looked and smelled delicious. His stomach rumbled, making him aware of how hungry he actually was. He looked around and saw that the others were already tugging in without preamble, so he took a slice and began to eat. It tasted heavenly.

"Hm … that's swell," he announced to no one in particular. "What kind of pizza is this?"

"Quatre rodenti …" David said, and the others burst out laughing.

"What's that, quatre rodenti? I don't know Italian …" Paul had already begun to feel a little doubtful about his pizza, even though it still tasted superb.

David looked him directly in the eyes. A mischievous smile was playing upon his lips. "It means rodents, Paul. Four kinds of rodents, to be specific. Rodents as in rats, mice, hamsters, and guinea-pigs …"

"Yeah. You're eating rats and hamsters, Paul. How do they taste?" Marko hooted, practically bubbling over with evil mirth.

Paul looked down at his food again. Sure enough, there was a well-done, naked rat-tail hanging over the edge of his pizza, and a little more to the left, there was the outline of a tiny mouse-like creature visible under the cheese …

Paul choked and spit out his last bite. He felt bile rising in his throat. The others were still snorting with laughter.

"Don't puke, Paul," Dwayne forced out between giggles. "It would be … it would be a waste of a perfectly good pizza four seasons. It's actually the best in town."

Paul looked at him, dumbfounded. Then he looked back at his pizza. There was no rat-tail, and there was no dead mouse or hamster or whatever it was he thought he had seen.

"I'm sorry, Paul," David chuckled. He sounded anything but. "I just can't help myself. It's in my nature, you know?" His smile showed too much of his teeth.

"You can eat up, Paul … really … it's completely safe," Marko grinned at him. As Paul still made no move to continue eating, not sure what exactly David had done to him or his food, he added: "Come on, Paulie-boy … I give you my pizza, and you gimme yours. So you can be dead sure that no one has tampered with what you eat."

"You eat people," Paul muttered. He felt exhausted. "You probably don't mind a rat or a guinea-pig now and then …"

Marko actually had the nerve to look miffed, but Dwayne snickered. Even David smiled.

"Ah, now he's got you, Marko," he said. "See, Paul, our Marko here is quite the animal-lover – and I mean this in the purest of senses. He is especially enamored with pigeons, rats and mice, and he never would hurt a feather or a hair on their tiny, fragile bodies. In fact, he's made it his personal sport to hunt and eat people who poison them or kill them with traps. Once he got hold of a so-called pest exterminator, and he happily forced him to swallow loads of the poison that was intended for the rats of Santa Carla. His death throes were quite the spectacle. Unfortunately, he wasn't edible for us with all that shit in his body, but one has to make sacrifices … Marko also loves cockroaches and spiders, so be careful were you tread in our cave, Paul."

Maybe, just maybe Paul felt even more sick to his stomach after hearing David's little speech than after thinking he had unintentionally eaten at least one of the quatre rodenti. But he really wasn't sure of anything anymore, not even of his own feelings.

Dwayne seemed to take pity on him. "Come now," he said and snatched Paul's pizza carton, exchanging it with his own. In addition, he handed him a can of coke. "You gotta eat something. You need to replenish."

'Or else I won't have enough blood for you to take away again?'

"Exactly," David stated, his tone dismissive.

Paul swallowed. He desperately wanted to leave this place. Even his shitty hometown seemed like paradise compared to this, and he would gratefully have spent the rest of his life there, caring for his completely mental, guru-doting New Age mom and his ill-natured, bedridden Grandma. He noticed that he was starting to sweat. Then, with an effort, he decided that if he was about to die, he could at least do so with a full stomach. He only hoped that, this time, they would let him eat in peace.

Paul's prayers were answered, and the meal was finished in a silence that didn't feel comfortable at all. When Paul was almost done with his pizza, Dwayne stood up to put a new cassette into the boom box, and soon the cave was filled with the wild beats of Duran Duran. Marko got up as well, and he and Dwayne began to bounce and dance around the cave, jumping over furniture, balancing on the edge of the dried-up fountain in the center of the place, and, finally, to Paul's astonishment, fascination and dismay – it was hard for him to choose one separate feeling in this complete mess he was stuck in – made their way up into the air, somersaulting, dangling from support beams, chasing each other, then meeting again in some wild, airborne moves high above the ground.

"You like what you see?"

It seemed David was at it again.

'Do I like the Beatles? Do I like their favorite pizza? Do I like to watch them freaking flying? What kind of question-and-answer is this?'

"Well? Would you like to go up there?"

Paul hesitated. Of course, he had dreamed about being able to fly now and then, especially as a child. Who hadn't? Who didn't? He looked up to the ceiling again, where Marko and Dwayne were dancing, arms linked, what looked like a weird kind of Schuhplattler.

"Yeah …" he admitted.

A heartbeat later, he regretted it. As if on cue, both Marko and Dwayne swept down upon him, grabbed him under the armpits and pulled him up as if he weighed nothing at all. He yelled in surprise, and, in reflex, fought their hold on him, but only for an instant, because in half a second, he was as high above the ground as the location would allow.

"Woohooo!" Marko shouted, and both vampires went into a loop, dragging Paul with them through the motion. He was so scared that he almost pissed himself, flailed around and grabbed Dwayne's jacket as hard as he could, clinging onto it for dear life.

"Easy," Dwayne rebuked him. "We won't let you fall. – And don't ruin my stuff," he added, trying to pry Paul's fingers loose.

Again, Paul panicked.

'God, no, I'm gonna _fall_ …! You'll have to break my fingers to make me let go!'

"Nay …" Marko changed his grip on Paul and moved behind his back, both arms around him. "Let go of Dwayne, Paulie-boy. I got you, and I won't let you fall. Promise."

They all stayed in this position for a few breaths of air without moving. Well, for a few breaths of air Paul took, for the others didn't seem to be breathing at all. Then, with a huge effort, Paul slowly loosened his grip and let go of Dwayne.

"Veeery good," Marko praised him. "You're not scared of heights in general, are you?"

Paul shook his head.

"Then are you afraid of us letting you fall?"

Paul hesitated, then nodded. Of course he was. These human-looking, but inhuman creatures hadn't proven themselves exactly friendly up until now.

"We won't," Dwayne assured him, floating directly in front of him. "Let you fall, that is. If we wanted to kill you, we would drain you, but we wouldn't ruin a meal by smashing it on the rocks. So we won't let go of you. Okay?"

Again, after a moment of hesitation, Paul nodded. He really _wanted_ to believe them. After all, his life depended on their actions.

"Good. Now I'll take your arm again, and Marko'll take your other arm, and we'll go a little slower, okay?"

Paul took a deep breath. "Okay," he finally said.

Marko and Dwayne jostled him around a bit until they had a good hold of him, and then they began to haul him around – slowly, as they had promised. Paul chanced a look down at the floor that was maybe thirty feet below, and saw David watching them with keen eyes. Then he looked further around. There were pigeons roosting up in the support beams and in tiny nooks and crannies of the rock.

The vampires manoeuvred pretty smoothly. Paul was moved around, not moving on his own accord, but he began to feel exhilarated nevertheless.

'This is actually pretty damn cool …'

Paul felt a kind of freedom he had never experienced before. He hardly noticed that they took up speed, until they did that loop thing again – but this time, without thinking about it, he hollered together with the others, enjoying the thrill of the flight.

'Maybe, just _maybe_ ,' Paul thought, 'it could be pretty awesome to be a vampire …'

Then the others let go of him.


	3. Chapter 3

For an endless moment, Paul was too shocked to realize anything other than that they had let him go. He was so scared that he couldn't even make a sound. Then, abruptly, he noticed that he was _not falling._ He was kept buoyant by he didn't know what, floating in mid-air as if it were water. He must have looked rather dumb, for Marko once again started with his cackling laughter.

And just like that, the spell was broken, and Paul fell. He screamed in mortal fear, and then the impact forced all of the air out of his lungs. What he had hit felt rock-solid. Only that it wasn't rock – it was David who had caught him out of a thirty-foot fall without so much as an 'Ooof!' or a buckling of his knees. Paul stared at him open-mouthed, completely dazed by the shock.

Once more, David was grinning down at him. "Almost," he chuckled. "That wasn't half bad, Paul."

Then his expression changed. He raised his eyebrows. "Marko, I think you need to take your pet for a walk – and for a little skinny-dipping in the ocean."

At his words, Paul realized that in his fright, he had soiled himself. He thought he would die with embarrassment right on the spot.

But David only shrugged as he placed Paul back on his feet. "You don't wanna know what I regularly have my hands in. Our feeding can get pretty messy."

With an impatient noise, Marko landed gracefully in front of David and Paul. He opened his mouth to say something, and by the look of him, it would have been scathing, but his leader cut him off with a single glance.

"Don't. You were by no means different," David said, and Paul thought that Marko actually cast his eyes down for a split second as if in submission or humiliation, but it was hard to tell. Paul had the impression that a lot of the communication between these beings happened on a nonvocal level.

"Come on," Marko ordered, sounding slightly subdued. "I'll take you outside."

'Outside' happened to be a small stretch of rocky beach enclosed by rocky walls. The waves were crashing dangerously wild against the shore.

Marko gestured towards the left of the cave entrance. "There's a tide-pool behind that crag."

They actually had to climb over said crag to reach the pool, and Paul needed Marko's help more than once. When they finally reached the place, he was pretty impressed. The tide-pool was really pool-sized, not a sort of puddle, as he had expected, but big and deep enough that one could swim in there.

"So …" Marko said. "What are you waiting for? Strip and wash."

Paul felt very self-conscious as he pulled off first his jeans-jacket, then his hoody, then his shirt. He knelt down to get his boots and socks off. Marko was constantly watching him. Paul decided that he really didn't want the vampire to see the rest of him in the state he was in, so he stepped into the pool with his jeans and underpants on and submerged in the rather cold water.

Once he got up again, he heard Marko snort with amusement. "And how are you gonna get those pants off now that they're wet? I guess you had hardly room to breathe in there even before, as tight as they are."

Actually, he did have a point. Paul tried to balance on one foot to pull one pant-leg off, but lost his equilibrium and splashed back into the water.

Marko was almost dying with laughter.

'Well, at least one of us is having a good time,' Paul thought sourly.

But then Marko started to strip.

'Oh no … He's not coming in here, is he?'

Paul felt slightly panicky, even if he wasn't sure why.

"What does it look like, doofus? You think I'm doing a strip-show for your benefit or what?"

Marko was out of his clothes in no time at all.

Paul couldn't help but look. He was no longer used to seeing naked men or boys on a regular basis, like he had been in the military and at college, and he certainly wasn't interested in guys, but if one stripped before his very eyes, it was okay to chance a glance, right? The glance he chanced towards Marko's southern regions was a very short one, but even from that he noticed that Marko was rather well endowed.

The vampire sniggered. Damn that mind-reading thing.

Marko was very pale, with a shimmer of light golden hair, and pretty skinny. It suited him though. Now that he was naked, it was even more obvious that he moved with a kind of grace that wasn't human. When he glided into the pool and dived, he reminded Paul of a shark. He snatched at his leg like a shark, too.

"Aaah! What are you doing?!"

Marko came up from under the water to grin at him. "Helping you undress." Then he plunged again and took a hold of one pant-leg, and then his hands were under Paul's waistband, and then at his crotch, and again at his pant-leg, and just like that, Paul was naked in less than ten seconds. Nonplussed, he stared down at Marko, who, once again, was laughing.

There was something to be said for the sunny nature of these guys. They seemed to be enjoying themselves and their existence very much.

Well, moony nature, maybe. Whatever.

Marko tilted his head quizzically, his elfish smile half hidden behind his hand. "You thought the water in the pool was cold when you stepped in, right? What about now?"

Paul pondered the question for a moment. He hadn't thought about it before Marko had mentioned it, but the water really wasn't feeling as chilly as it probably should. "No, it doesn't feel cold …"

"How does it feel then? Warm?"

"No …" Again, Paul faltered. In truth, he couldn't even tell if the water was warm or cold. "It's … it's strange. I can't really describe it. It's neither cold nor warm. More … neutral."

Marko's grin broadened. "And that's how your body is going to react to heat and cold from now on. Whatever temperature our environment has, it's fine with us. Neutral, as you put it."

What did he mean, "from now on"? And why did Marko's "us" all of a sudden include Paul? Did it have to do with the blood he had supposedly drunk? By the way, what kind of blood? Or rather – who's? Marko's? David's?

And then, Paul's train of thoughts spectacularly derailed as Marko came up behind him, put his arms around Paul's chest, and practically molded himself against Paul's back.

"I got an offer to make, Paulie-boy." Marko's breath ghosted over Paul's neck as he spoke. "I've reached the age where I'm allowed to choose a new pack-member – provided that everyone else agrees with my choice, that is. I'm considering – only _considering_ , mind you – to choose _you_. Being chosen by me is, by the way, effectively your only chance at survival, for the others have already made their choices quite a few decades ago. David chose Dwayne, Dwayne chose me. And now, I might choose you."

There were a lot of thoughts running through Paul's head, chasing each other so fast that he could take a hold of none of them. They had to do with his impending death, the question whether he even wanted to survive if it meant to become a monster, the problem what exactly it would entail to be chosen by Marko. What finally came out of his mouth, however, was: "But … you've only known me for a few hours!"

Marko moved around him a little, so that Paul could see his face, and smirked at him. "That's not quite true. In fact, I've known you for five nights and four days. I hurt you pretty bad when I bit you, and even with the help of the blood, it took you a good time to heal. I've watched over you during the nights, including watering and feeding you and changing your nappy, and shared your dreams during the days. So I daresay I know you at least a little."

'I've lost five days! Jesus! And … wait – changing my nappy?!'

Marko's smirk turned into a giggle. "Yeah, I've seen it all, Paulie-boy. There really was no need for you to be hiding under water."

He stepped back behind Paul and put his chin on Paul's shoulder. Absent-minded, Paul thought that Marko must be standing on tiptoe to manage this, for he was half a head shorter than Paul. As Marko spoke again, his tone had become much more serious. "Don't be scared," he whispered against Paul's hair. "However this turns out, there's no reason to be afraid. It all depends on your perception. Everything does. Even if I killed you in the end, you needn't be scared. I'd make you enjoy it. Promise."

Paul swallowed hard. "You also promised to not let me fall …"

"And I didn't. You made yourself fall, even though you were quite capable of staying airborne."

"What … what would I need to do to be chosen?"

He felt Marko shrug against him. "There's really not much you can do – apart from going with the flow. If you're suited for us, we'll know, and if you're not – well, no one would blame you. We'd only eat you." He chuckled, and then he placed his lips against the side of Paul's neck. Paul instantly went rigid, remembering the horrible pain he had experienced when Marko first bit him.

"Shush. Relax …" Marko whispered. There was a stinging sensation that made Paul hold is breath for a second. It quickly passed though, and then Marko was licking at his skin. Paul heard an excited moan, and realized to his shock that it had been his own. He could hardly believe it, but this was actually turning him on.

'God have mercy on my soul!' he thought with desperate fervency. 'Maybe I'm falling for this … him …'

"I don't think he'd mind. If he even exists, we are his creations as well, remember?"

Marko's cold lips had left Paul's neck, traveling down his spine in the form of feathery kisses, interspersed with licking and tiny pricking sensations Paul supposed were made by Marko's teeth. Had he changed back to his scary face? Paul tried to turn around, but from his perspective he could only see a nest of blond curls. Yet Marko's hands were lying on Paul's hips, and as he looked down at them, he realized that they currently sported very long and sharp-looking fingernails. In fact, they looked more like deadly claws.

"Oh, but they _are_ quite useful," Marko stated, and then he drew a burning line over Paul's chest. Tiny droplets of blood welled up from the cut, and Marko stepped around Paul to lick them up, all the while grinning like a maniac. His eyes were a steel glossing rouge, and his entire features had changed into something rather terrifying.

And still, Paul was excited by this.

'What the fuck's wrong with me? Never bother that he's male and that I'm in no way attracted to males, but he's not even human!'

"Stop thinking. If it's of any help to you: The blood has a lot to do with it. You're no longer human yourself, Paulie-boy. You're a half-vampire by now, and our needs are different from those of humans. We mostly have same-gender relationships – but this isn't about relationships, it's about fucking. So show me what you're made of, Paul."

"You … you want me to …?!" Paul stared at him in disbelief. Whatever man … male creature … whatever … would want to have this done to them? Ask for it, even?

Marko's tone turned a little bitter. "Yes, I want you to, because I no longer can. Fully-fledged vampires have no blood circulation. No circulation means 'it' does no longer work." Then he cheered up again. "It's not as big a deal as you might think. There are other ways … And anyway, it's fun either way." He snickered.

Paul felt almost desperate. "But I don't know … I've never …"

Marko laughed. "There's really not much to it, Paul. Come on." He took a step away from Paul. "I'm not easily breakable. You needn't take care." He grabbed Paul's hand and pulled him towards a rock at the edge of the water. As they stepped out of the pool, Paul noticed that temperature-wise, there really wasn't any difference between water and air. At least he didn't feel one.

Marko braced his hands against the rock and grinned at Paul over his shoulder. "Well?"

Paul hesitated. Then he extended his hands and touched Marko's back. His skin felt cool and smooth. Not human. Paul stroked down his back and his sides, exploring the body of this strange, fascinating creature. There were muscles rippling under the surface. He was reminded of petting a cat. A very dangerous cat. A sexy beast. He didn't know. He felt as confused as never before in his life – and that was saying something.

Marko seemed to enjoy the caress. As if in answer to Paul's thoughts, he started to purr. It was a sound from deep within, making his entire body vibrate. He kind of pawed the rock with his claws, then, once again, glanced over his shoulder to smirk slyly at Paul. "Well?" he repeated, obviously enjoying himself very much.

Experimentally, Paul allowed his hands to wander further south. This was so strange …

Marko's purring sounded excited now. Paul himself was definitely aroused enough to take a try. Just as he positioned himself were he thought he should, Marko shocked him by raising his hand and biting into his own flesh – deep. What came out of the wound didn't look so much like blood but more like a dark-red, glittery goo.

"That's vampire blood, Paulie-boy. It has many uses," Marko explained, leering. He rubbed the substance between his own ass-cheeks, than took a hold of Paul's member and smeared it with his blood as well.

Paul stared down at himself, slightly repulsed.

"Don't be such a wuss," Marko chided him. "This will make things much smoother. I wouldn't care if you fucked me dry, but it wouldn't be a pleasurable experience for you. Your body is still much more vulnerable than mine, and pain's not mainly a thrill for you."

So Paul did what Marko wanted him to do. Marko was writhing under him as Paul dug his fingers into his sides and entered him.

'Wow … This feels actually … _really_ great.'

He made a few cautious, experimental thrusts. Since Marko seemed to enjoy this very much, Paul got bolder and began to fuck him in earnest. There was a surge of energy, an intense strain he had never before experienced. He felt absolutely splendid … glorious … invincible!

That was until he climaxed, and Marko shuddered all over, and, slap-bang, grabbed Paul's left wrist and bit down to the bone.


	4. Chapter 4

At first, Paul had felt like blacking out from the pain, but his body had decided on puking his guts out instead. So he was kneeling on the stony ground, half-blinded with agony, retching. As he finally managed to look up again, Marko was still standing beside the rock, stark naked, with a sheepish expression on his face.

"Ah man, I'm sorry," he said. "That was my instinct taking over. Jeez …"

Before he could try to formulate an answer, someone else stepped up behind Paul and put a hand on his shoulder. "Let me have a look at that." It was Dwayne.

At this moment, Paul didn't care that both he and Marko were naked, that they had fucked, that Dwayne had probably watched them go at it. He only wanted the pain to stop. Shaking, he lifted his bitten wrist. Very carefully, Dwayne took his hand and asserted the damage. The wound was bleeding pretty bad.

"That was stupid," Dwayne declared, applying pressure to a point below Paul's wrist to stop the blood-flow. "Gimme your shirt, Marko. Conveniently already in straps."

Pouting, Marko went to retrieve his muscle-shirt from where he had shed it, and ripped it to shreds. Then he handed them over to Dwayne. Vaguely, Paul wondered about hygiene and infections.

"That's something you no longer have to worry about," Dwayne assured him as he started to wrap a pressure-bandage around Paul's wrist. It hurt like hell, and Paul was glad that Dwayne was talking and thereby distracting him from the process. "No infection in the world would have a chance against the blood that's now running through your veins. That's not the problem. This will heal, and fast. But Marko has made you lose blood again while your body's still hard at work with replacing what he has taken from you several nights ago. In addition, your system's strained by the first stages of the change. It's a bad idea to further aggravate your body at this point in time."

"It wasn't _my_ idea," Paul muttered from behind clenched teeth. Luckily, Dwayne seemed almost done with patching him up.

"I know that, Paul."

The vampire applied some final touches to his creation. "Done. There you go." Then he rummaged around in his jacket-pockets and produced a cigarette case. He opened it and took out a joint, which he lit and handed to Paul. "Here, have a smoke. It's good against the pain."

After that, he turned to Marko. "And _you_ … you can go get the bottle, fly over to Max and ask him for a refill. It looks like Paul could do with another swig of the blood, and we used all we had to nurse him back to health the past nights."

Marko drew a face. "Ah … do I really have to?" he whined.

"Yes, you do. Go. _Now_."

Marko scowled, but he put his clothes back on and made his way over the rocks pretty fast. Paul was impressed by how Dwayne ordered him around. Marko was, after all, a very deadly creature.

"We have an age-oriented hierarchy. Usually, you won't see much of it, but in case of conflict it's pretty strict."

Dwayne lit a second joint. He sat down on the rocks, and they smoked in companionable silence for a while. Paul was still naked, but he wasn't cold, and he thought that it was a little late now to start feeling ashamed because of his nudity. His parents had been prude, and he had never been at ease with his body. But at the moment, he cared very little. It was strange, Paul thought, how he felt completely non-threatened by Dwayne while he was constantly on edge around Marko.

At long last, Dwayne helped him to get up. Paul's wrist was still killing him, and he couldn't use his left hand to push up from the ground – or to dress himself. So Dwayne assisted him with that too. Paul only put on his hoody and his boots though. His jeans and underpants had drifted to the shore of the pool, but they were, of course, soaking wet. Dwayne took both them and his other clothes.

"We'll find you some pants in the cave. Mine should fit you well enough."

It wasn't easy to climb with his damaged hand, but with Dwayne's assistance, Paul managed. When they, at long last, had made it back to the cave and he slithered down the entrance, his lower half naked but for his biker boots, his private parts and his behind barely covered by the hem of his hoody, he was in for a surprise.

There was David, and there was Marko, and they were both standing in attention, so to speak, beside a tall man in a suit. Paul stumbled in shock and would have fallen if not for Dwayne, who caught and steadied him quickly. His hoody had skidded up in the process, and Paul hastily covered himself again, his face burning with shame. It was one thing to be naked in front of the guys, who had probably seen it all anyway while he had been unconscious, and who were roughly his own age. But being naked in front of an unknown, distinguished gentleman …

"Ah, but that is were you are wrong, my dear boy," the gentleman said jovially. "None of my boys is even roughly your age. You call me middle-aged, but that is what you should call Marko. He was born in 1936 … Dwayne would be a really old man, and David would very likely be dead by now if you measured their life-spans by human standards. I myself have lived many a hundred years."

The man smiled and stepped forward, extending a hand. "I'm Max, and you could call me the boys' father. Since you're dealt as a possible addition to our family, I thought we should meet sooner rather than later. "

Acutely conscious of his disheveled state, Paul shook hands with Max.

"Someone get him some pants," Max ordered, still smiling. "Or I will be very distracted indeed."

Marko snorted with amusement, while Paul felt rather uneasy. Then Dwayne came over with a pair of leather-pants. "Try these on. I think they should fit."

'Why have I put on these damned boots?' Paul thought desperately. Now he had to get them off first to put the pants on, sticking his naked behind into the air, or –

"May I?" Max asked in a silky voice and knelt down in front of Paul, unlacing his boots for him. That, of course, offered him a perfect view of the exact same parts Paul wanted so desperately to cover. Max didn't comment though, he only smiled. But that smile told a story all of its own.

'Father or sugar-daddy?' Paul wondered, feeling more and more uncomfortable with the situation.

Max chuckled. "I am their maker. If we all agree on you as a new family member, I will be your maker as well. You have already drunk my blood. If we allow you to continue the process, we will be bound for eternity."

So it was neither David's nor Marko's blood he had drunk, but this guy's. That was a little …

'No! Don't think anything impolite, for fuck's sake!'

Max winked at him knowingly, clearly amused. Finally, he stood up again. Paul instantly grabbed the pants out of Dwayne's hands and put them on as quickly as possible. Luckily, Dwayne was build heavier than Paul, so he did not have to wriggle around in an undignified way to pull the leather on. When he looked up again, he met with the stares of four rather amused vampires.

"Well, Paul," Max said in a pleasant voice, "the blood is the life. And it tells us many things. It will tell me, for instance, if you are suited for this family. So I regret to tell you, but you will have to allow yourself to be bitten once again."

With that, he stepped behind Paul.

'Oh no, not _again_ …' Paul thought desperately. His wrist was still hurting like mad, and now this guy wanted to …

He felt gentle fingers brush his hair aside, then a hand on his shoulder and one on his neck. Cold lips touched his skin, and after that, there was pain, but only for an instant. Max couldn't have made more than tiny pinpricks with his teeth. Paul felt relieved, yet very awkward as Max began to suck lightly on the wound.

"Well," the vampire uttered after a moment of silence. "There is a lot of darkness within you. You have tried very hard, and yet, you have been put down and betrayed again and again, and even by the people you loved the most. There is little love left in you now."

He licked over Paul's skin, tasting more of his blood. "Yes," he said. "You no longer care, not even about the ones that were once dearest to you. You have come here to seek oblivion, and maybe even the waters of forgetfulness – although you are not aware of that yourself."

More licking. "You are very bitter, feeling that the whole world has wronged you. You think that you have been taught lies all throughout your life. You would not say no if the opportunity for vengeance arose."

There was one last touch of Max's lips on Paul's skin which, in all honesty, felt more like a caress. Then the vampire let go of him.

"Very well," Max said, stepping beside Paul. "Boys …" he nodded to each of the younger vampires in succession and smiled. "I think Paul is perfectly suited for us."

Curiously, at least to Paul, all of their faces lit up at this.

"Marko," Max continued, "you've made a good choice. I'm proud of you … very proud indeed."

Marko's ever-present grin broadened at Max's praise.

"Take good care of him, guide him well, and present him to me again when he has completed the change. – Paul …"

Once more, Max smiled kindly at him. "This will not be easy for you, but, believe me, it is totally worth it. No one is ever going to lie to you in this family. No one is going to put you down for trying, even if you do not succeed. There is no betrayal amongst us. And, maybe most important to you, not one of us is ever going to leave you. Never. This time, your family will be for eternity. And if you want to take out your pent up frustration on the world – well, no one will hinder you."

To Paul's bemusement, after that, Max embraced him and kissed him on the brow. He did the same to all of the others. Then he turned around, made his way over to the cave's entrance and climbed out. In fact, it looked more like he _glided_ out. His feet seemed to barely touch the ground. For a moment, his silhouette was visible in the entrance against the faint light of the moon. He raised a hand in greeting, and then, in the blink of an eye, he was gone.

After a long moment of silence, David said: "That went well." There was affirmative muttering from the other two.

"Paul, come over here," David demanded. He held a dusty, jeweled bottle in his hands. It looked ancient. "I want you to have a drink with us."

Paul felt slightly nauseated at the thought of slimy, glittery vampire-blood.

"It's mixed with wine," Marko told him. "And once you've tasted it, we'll have to wrestle the bottle from your hands. It'll blow your mind."

Paul really wasn't eager to have his mind blown. In the current situation, he'd much rather be in control of his senses.

"That's prudent," David said. "But there's really no way around it." He held the bottle out for Paul to take. "Drink some of this, Paul," he said in a seductive voice as he looked Paul directly into the eyes. "Drink some of this, and be one of us."

Hesitantly, Paul took the bottle and raised it to his lips. An enticing scent was wafting up from the liquid inside. Paul took a whiff and thought he would faint from pleasure. Hastily, he took a sip. The others hollered and applauded him. Pure energy was coursing through Paul's system. He took another sip, then a deep gulp, and after that, he simply couldn't stop. Delight was flooding all of his senses, prickling, tingling … He felt as if he were floating on air, or generating electricity, or …

It was Dwayne who finally, firmly but gently, pried his fingers from the bottle and took it away from him.

Paul moaned in disappointment and longing. His head felt as if it were stuffed with red cotton-wool. He couldn't formulate even one coherent thought. There was only hunger and craving.

"You want more?" Marko asked. He sounded excited. "Come over here."

Eagerly, Paul complied. He was as if in a trance. Marko was sitting on one of the old, beaten sofas which were assembled in the center of the cave. His eyes were a glowing, coppery red, his locks framing his face like molten gold. He smiled, showing his blindingly white, dagger-sharp teeth.

Paul stumbled over towards him, falling onto the couch and practically into Marko's lap. Marko's laugh sounded soft and affectionate. He bit into his own wrist and held it out for Paul, who greedily took a hold of it and lapped the gooey substance up as if it were the most delicious treat. He didn't want to let go, he didn't want to stop, but Marko pulled him up higher, towards his neck. With one long fingernail, he made a deep cut and opened a vein, then tilted his head and offered his blood to Paul, who needed no further invitation. Before long, both of them were moaning in bliss.

'Heaven …' Paul thought, both dazed and incredibly turned on. 'Never this good … Not even sex …'

Again, it was Dwayne who interfered. "That's enough, Paul," he said insistently, but not unkind. "Don't gorge yourself, or you'll throw it all up. – Marko, come down from your cloud and help me."

Marko seemed unwilling, but he assisted Dwayne nevertheless in unhooking Paul from his neck.

Paul didn't want to let go. He fought their hands, and then he growled. He heard David laugh, and then there was another pair of hands on his body, easily lifting him up and away from Marko. Paul's growls turned into sobs. He was so overstimulated that he didn't know his head from his feet anymore.

Someone held him in a firm embrace from behind, pinning his flailing arms to his sides. "It's okay …" David whispered into his ear. "It's okay …"

Then there were hands on his crotch, unlacing his borrowed pants and pulling them off his hips. Gentle fingers wrapped around his member and began to work him, while Paul was sobbing and weeping, not able to control himself under the assault to his senses that was coming from everywhere. Then it all seemed to concentrate down below. It was simply unbearable. He cried out in agony and desperation, and then he climaxed violently, trembling all over, all of his energy flooding out of him. He slumped bonelessly against David, who, once again, picked him up and laid him down on one of the couches. Paul rolled onto his side and curled up, still crying. He was shaken to his very core. A few heartbeats later, someone snuggled up against him, settling behind him and putting his arms around Paul's poor, shivering body. A blanket was tugged over the both of them.

Even as out of it as he was, Paul felt a little comforted by the proximity of another body and the obvious care with which he was treated.

Completely exhausted, he closed his eyes, and immediately fell into a deep sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

When Paul awoke, the first thing he noticed was the presence of another person very close by. Someone was nestled against his back. There was an arm around him, and a large hand was lying on his belly. He looked at the hand and decided that it didn't belong to Marko. He craned his neck – and found himself looking straight into the eyes of David.

Paul blinked. "You?" he croaked, his mouth still dry from sleep.

David smirked at him. "Would you rather it were Marko?"

Paul felt himself blush. "I … I don't know. He … makes me edgy," he admitted. "I … really, I don't know."

David chuckled at him and his confusion. "Never mind. It'll all sort itself out in due time. – I'm with you because I'm the oldest. I've already guided Dwayne and Marko through the change. I also have a light sleep if forewarned. It's not safe for us to stay in this part of the cave during the day. I would never allow Marko to do so, at least not without me. He's still young for a vampire, and far too vulnerable."

"He doesn't seem vulnerable to me …" Paul muttered.

"That's because you know next to nothing about us. But that's about to change. I want you well prepared for everything that awaits you."

Paul wasn't entirely sure whether this soothed or aggravated him. He had no time to ponder it, for at that very moment, hooting and hollering echoed through the cave. Two large figures flew out of a dark hole in the wall and landed next to the fountain. "Howdy!" shouted Marko, jumping onto the ledge and dancing over the arms of the large chandelier lying in the center. "Had a good day, Paulie-boy?"

Dwayne greeted them with a smile and a nod, then proceeded to lit the barrels and some candles.

"Yes, Marko, everything's fine," David assured as he rose from the sofa.

"How's your wrist, Paul?" Dwayne asked, sauntering over to them.

Perplexed, Paul noticed that it no longer hurt. "Uh … I don't know …"

"Take off the bandages, then."

Paul was a little worried, expecting his blood to have caked the cloth and the edges of the wound together. The straps were indeed stiff with the stuff, but to his surprise, it didn't hurt to peel them off. Underneath, everything looked perfectly fine, if peppered with flakes of dried blood. Dumbfounded, Paul stared at the place where a nasty-looking wound should have been.

The others laughed. "You should see the expression on your face, man!" Marko howled. "It's priceless!"

David clapped him on the back. "Fast healing is only one of the perks of being a vampire, Paul. Just wait till you discover the rest …"

"That's … pretty awesome," Paul said. He supposed it really was, but he just needed some time to process all this awesomeness. On top of that, right now, he had a completely non-related, yet nevertheless burning question. "Uh … can I take a leak somewhere?" he asked nervously.

David chuckled. "Of course. Outside." He nodded towards the cave's entrance. "Go with him, Marko. But give him his pants back first."

That was when Paul noticed that he was, once again, naked from the waist down. He wondered how this had come to be, but his recollections of the past night were very vague. But wait – hadn't there been some kind of … uh … petting involved? Had … had Marko given him a hand-job? In front of everyone else? He felt himself blush at the thought.

"No, Paulie-boy. Sadly, I haven't," Marko snickered.

Paul felt really relieved – for just about two seconds. For after those, Dwayne said: "It was me."

Once more, Paul felt himself burn with embarrassment while everybody else seemed to think the situation hilarious.

"You were completely overstrung, Paul," David finally managed to state between all of the chuckling and snorting. "It's one of the effects of the blood. We needed to discharge you, or else you might have snapped."

"It really isn't that big of a deal," Dwayne tried to comfort him. "Once you live with us for a while, you'll see that we're very close indeed. For us, the pleasure mainly runs in the blood though."

While Paul was still puzzling over the meaning of Dwayne's words, Marko threw him his borrowed leather-pants. "Yours are dry, but they're stiff with salt. We'll take them to the laundromat one of these nights."

At Paul's disbelieving expression, he snickered and said: "Yes, we do clean or clothes, Paulie-boy. Or rather, we have them cleaned for us. At least from time to time. What do you think we'd look like, otherwise? We'd be a real spectacle, running around in things all blotched with blood and caked with dirt."

When Paul had donned his pants and boots ('I wish I had some underwear,' Paul thought. 'Dwayne won't be pleased if I accidentally …'), he and Marko climbed out of the cave together. A good distance from the entrance, Paul did what he had to do, while Marko watched him, apparently fascinated. Paul tried not to be bothered by it. Instead, he pondered some important everyday problems. Like, "So you _do_ clean your clothes. But … do you guys ever brush your teeth or take a bath or anything like that?"

"Why? Do we stink?" Marko asked, eyebrows raised.

Actually, they didn't.

"No," Paul answered truthfully.

"Ah, see …" Marko snickered. "That's the halfie talking. If you were human still, you'd probably find it unbearable to share your living space with us – at least when it comes to our sleeping place, which isn't as nicely ventilated as the main cave. To humans, we smell like a bunch of lions in a zoo. We can mask our scent for a while when we're moving amongst them, like we can mask our second faces, but when we're asleep and unconscious, it becomes pretty obvious."

That was interesting, if a little disgusting.

"And the hygiene thing?"

Marko shrugged. "We do pick our teeth when there's flesh stuck between them … and we sometimes chew on sinewy stuff."

Okay, that was _very_ disgusting.

"We occasionally swim in the pool you used yesterday, or in the ocean. We never use fresh water pools though."

"Why not?" Paul always had thought fresh water much more pleasant than seawater to swim in.

"Maybe so, and if the water's real clean, it would probably be alright, but …" To Paul's amazement, Marko shuddered – as if he were recollecting something dreadful.

"I am," Marko told him. "There are things living in unclean fresh water that are very detrimental to us. You have to ask Dwayne for the specifics, but I can tell you what happened to me when I wasn't aware of this … I only put my naked feet in a puddle, and my skin was literally sizzling off down to the bones everywhere the water touched me. It was the worst pain I've ever experienced as a vampire."

Paul was nonplussed. "But what could possibly cause such a thing?"

Again, Marko shrugged. "I told you: ask Dwayne. He's the learned one …"

So Paul did exactly that once they were back in the cave.

"Ameba," Dwayne answered, his face grim. "I did some research on it" –

"Meaning he buried himself in piles of books for nights on end," David threw in.

– "and found out that it's likely the same species that causes amebic colitis in humans. Most humans don't know it, but these tiny little things don't only give them the runs, they can also cause ulcers and, if not treated properly, even death. They basically eat people from the inside out. With us, it seems to be the other way round – they eat us from the outside in. Whenever they come in contact with our skin, they cause lesions similar to chemical burns. The intensity likely depends on how many ameba are in the water and how quickly they are removed. We ducked Marko's feet into the ocean only minutes after it happened, and then we washed them with vodka, and it still took him days to properly heal."

Marko drew a pained grimace at the memory.

"I'm not sure though if the vodka even helped, but we simply didn't know what else to do."

"So now I'm wearing water-proof boots, and chaps, and leather-gloves," Marko concluded. "Just to be safe …"

"That's why we're _all_ wearing leather, at least on our lower half. Well, all but Dwayne, who alternates between ripped jeans and leather … but at least he's wearing gaiters most of the times. Max's wearing them too when there are puddles to cross after a rainy day," David explained. "He probably thinks he would look funny in leather-pants or chaps." He grinned. "Though it's not a problem for us to be out in the rain or to drive through puddles in the forest or even on the highway. The problem starts where there are humans around who stick their dirty fingers or butts into the water."

Dwayne continued: "Ameba-polluted water seems to be the basis for the holy water myth they tell about us. I guess a priest could bless a corked bottle of water as often as he wished and it still wouldn't do us any harm, even if we showered with it. Blessed water in a basin in a church, on the other hand, where a lot of people put their dirty fingers in every day …"

Marko made a retching sound.

"I guess it would be even worse if one swallowed polluted water," Dwayne mused, apparently inspired by Marko's pantomime. "Since it works so quickly on our skin, I don't even wanna know what it would do once inside."

"So, Paulie-boy," Marko snickered, apparently in good spirits again. "If you should ever fall into a tub full of holy water, remember: keep your trap shut."

"Yeah, because that's so very likely to happen, Marko," David chuckled.

"Tomorrow never knows?" Marko tried and everyone, even Paul, laughed.

"So," he said, once the mirth had died down. "I won't bathe in fresh water pools once I'm a vampire." His curiosity was really piqued now. "What else?"

"Sunlight," David immediately answered. "We're extremely … What's it called, Dwayne?"

"Photosensitive."

"That's it. We literally burn from it. So never, ever go out in daylight if you don't want to end as a pile of ash."

"What if it's clouded?"

"You'd probably have a few more moments, maybe even minutes, to seek shelter, but in the end, you'd burn just as well. We get a little more resilient with age, but the Cali summer sun would burn even Max to cinder in less than a minute."

"That fast? Really?"

"Well, obviously, we haven't tried it … No volunteers, you know?" David smirked.

"But that's it? Polluted fresh water and the sun, or rather the daylight?" That seemed very little to fear.

"There's also fire," David replied. "That's just as destructive for us as for every other creature. We can survive severe burns, and heal much faster from them than a human would, but if someone were to tie us to a stake …"

"The same might go for electricity," Dwayne added. "I'm not sure if we'd take so well to, let's say, the chair."

"And stakes? Decapitation?"

David shook his head. "Nope. Even if the head were completely destroyed …"

Paul stared at him disbelievingly. "But what about the _brain_?"

David smiled. He looked rather smug. "So here's the thing, Paul. Even if we just told you that it's not prudent to bathe in polluted water, to go out in the sun or to jump into a fire: As long as there's one intact cell left, everything, and I mean _every_ thing, can be rebuilt. It might take decades, centuries even, but a single intact cell in a charred bone or tooth would have all the information needed to reconstruct the entire vampire. All the necessary elements can be drawn from the earth, or even the air."

To Paul, this was an almost scary thought. So even if one wanted to, it was hardly possible to end one's existence as a vampire? And he still couldn't get over the rebuilding of the brain thing.

"We have proof that it works," Dwayne told him.

"Who?"

"Max."

"Max?!" To Paul, Max hadn't seemed like someone who had quite literally lost his mind once …

"Max was born in the fifteenth century," David explained. "He became a vampire when he was forty-six. Roughly two-hundred years into his existence, he was staked and decapitated by enraged villagers. His head was crushed and burned, but they left his body intact. It took him roughly twenty years to rebuilt his head – including the brain."

"Which _does_ explain certain things …" Marko snickered.

Paul gaped at them. "But he surely can't have been _aware_ without a brain?!" Or could he?

"It's different with vampires, Paul," David said patiently. "We don't function the way humans or other mammals do, and we've no use for most of the organs a human body houses anyway."

Well, that was surprising, but not illogical. They didn't seem to breathe, for one, and if they hadn't got blood circulation … "But if your bodies have no use for human organs" –

"Does eating them count?" Marko mischievously asked.

"I mean your _own_ organs – in your _own_ bodies." In his mind he added: 'As you very well know.'

In reply, Marko just grinned at him from behind a gloved fist.

Dwayne smiled a little apologetically. "We actually don't have that many organs."

Paul was ill at ease with that answer. "But … but where do they go?", he inquired.

There was an uncomfortable silence.

At long last, David spoke up. "Max left something for you." He emptied a plastic bag on the battered old chest that served as a table. Several syringes and vials fell out. "This is morphine in large doses, and everything that's needed to apply it. Blessed be the human who invented it."

All this was making Paul very antsy. What on earth would he need morphine for? He had the distinct feeling that he wouldn't like the answer … at all. "So … what happens to the organs?" he asked haltingly.

David cleared his throat. "Well … in the final step of the transformation, after you've made your first kill, they are simply … dissolved."

"Dissolved?!"

"Yes", Dwayne replied. "Our bodies mainly consist of muscles, bones – which are hollow, like a bird's –, skin, structural fabric – containing, amongst other things, a kind of air cushions –, and the glittery jelly you've already seen that passes for our blood."

'Aha!' Paul thought. 'So he _did_ watch Marko and me …'

A slightly titillating smile appeared on Dwayne's lips, but he continued as if nothing out of the ordinary had been uncovered. And maybe, for him and the others, it wasn't unusual to watch each other have a go at it. "If you were to stake a vampire, you wouldn't be covered in blood, but in slime, and you could never pierce his heart, because we have none."

"Uh … How do you know all of this?" Paul asked, puzzled. Surely there wasn't an anatomy book specifically written for vampires?

Dwayne's smile changed. For the first time since Paul knew him, he looked decidedly creepy. "We had a look."

"What? You tortured another vampire?!"

"No. We had a look at each other," Dwayne replied evenly.

"Sometimes we get very bored …" Marko leered at Paul from behind his hand. He had a rather freaky gleam in his eye.

'I don't wanna think about it … I don't wanna think about it …' Paul repeated in his head several times. This mantra helped little though to chase away the images which had formed unbidden before his inner eye.

David spoke up again. "When that part of the transformation happens, it's obviously very painful. Therefore the morphine … though, unfortunately, it doesn't stop the pain completely. It only dulls the senses."

"But it's still a great help," Dwayne assured Paul. "Max told us that, five-hundred years ago, they had only alcohol to help him through the process …"

All of the vampires looked very uncomfortable at the thought.

Paul swallowed hard.

Marko stepped up to him and drew him close. Why did they always have to embrace him from behind?!

"We all got through it, Paulie-boy," Marko whispered, leaning against Paul's back. "You'll make it as well. And afterwards, you're part of our family."

Dwayne said: "You'll never grow old or sick, and you'll never die …"

"Sleep all day, party all night …" David added.

"It's great fun to be a vampire," Marko concluded, giving Paul an encouraging squeeze.

"Besides," David threw in off-handedly, "you really have no choice now that the process has already started. It's either the change – or death."


	6. Chapter 6

"Well, Paul …" David announced merrily, while Paul's head was still spinning with worried thoughts about his upcoming change – and the alternative. "I hope you're up for some action, for we're going to the Boardwalk tonight. Marko needs to feed, and you can get your first lesson in stalking and killing prey."

That was unexpected. A cold and hollow feeling settled inside Paul as he tried to imagine what it would be like to 'stalk and kill prey'.

"There's no compromising on this one, Paul." David sounded stern, which surprised Paul. Until now, the leader of the pack had seemed pretty laid-back to him, very calm, yet completely in control of everything and everyone.

"I am," David assured him. "All three of them. But still, there _are_ rules. You've started the change six nights ago, even if you were not aware of it, and sooner rather than later, you'll feel the urge to kill. I'm not gonna let you stumble into it blindly, for your sake as well as ours."

"You gotta dress up for the occasion, Paulie-boy!" Marko called from further back in the cave. He was rummaging around in an old chest of drawers. "Here, catch!" A tangle of bangles and chains smacked into Paul's chest.

"Hey, this would look cool on you!" Marko had unearthed something that looked like a swallowtail and threw it at Paul as well. It really was a dress coat, cut in eighties' style with broad shoulders and pads. Just for the fun of it, Paul pulled off his hoody and donned the swallowtail instead. It fitted him perfectly.

"Woohoo!" Marko hollered, apparently delighted. "Just look at you, Paulie-boy!" He stormed over and grabbed Paul by the arm, then proceeded to drag him behind one of the support beams, against which a six foot high, cracked old mirror had been placed. Paul was rather curious if Marko would have a reflection or not. He was almost disappointed to see that he had one.

Marko was prancing around him, making strange, excited little noises. Then he snatched the chains and bangles from out of Paul's hands and began to decorate him as if he were a Christmas tree. Paul tried to utter a protest, but it all happened so fast that he really had no chance.

When Marko was done, he spun Paul around in front of the mirror. "You look great! Drop-dead gorgeous!" he exclaimed, gleaming.

Paul stared at his own reflection, steamrolled. Until now, he had dressed fairly average, in Levi's, t-shirts, jeans-jackets and such. Now a totally different Paul was staring back at him. He still had Dwayne's black leather-pants on, his own biker boots, his black Metallica t-shirt and the swallowtail. Over his shoulder, Marko had draped a double-chain of what looked like ornate coins, fastened with safety pins. Other pins had been adorned elsewhere for decoration. On both wrists, he wore a strange assortment of bracelets, some made of fabric, others of metal pearls, some of spiked plastic. He looked absolutely rowdy.

While Paul was admiring himself, Marko bounced back to the chest of drawers, then came at him with a brush, a comb and hairspray.

"Ouch!" Paul protested as Marko began to disentangle his hair rather roughly.

"Duck!" Marko cried at him and shoved him downwards, attacking him with the hairspray. Paul landed on his ass with an "Ooof!". At the raucous laughter that followed, he remembered that Dwayne and David were watching his ordeal. He looked over to them beseechingly while Marko tortured him with the comb. They seemed to be having the time of their lives, so he swallowed his only half-joking plea for help.

When Marko finally was done with him and let him up again, Paul chanced a glance into the mirror. 'Wow!' he thought, caught between dismay and amusement. 'I look like a souped-up poodle …'

"A rather sexy poodle," Dwayne remarked, winking at him, and Paul felt instantly better.

"Come on, Boys," David ordered in good humor. "Let's roll. The night's waiting for us!"

xXxXxXx

As David had informed him, they were going to the Boardwalk by bike. But first, they had to climb some winding, decrepit stairs that led up to the cliff below which the cave was situated. The vampires were in high spirits, laughing, joking and shoving each other playfully. Paul noticed that Dwayne was allowed to jostle David, and that Marko was allowed to hustle Dwayne, but that Marko stayed clear of David at all times. David, naturally, was shoving everyone around just as he pleased.

Dwayne turned back towards Paul, smiling. "You're a good observer. Stay observant, and you'll adapt fast."

When they had finally reached the top of the cliff, they followed an overgrown, barely visible path into an extensive shrubbery. In the shadows of the bushes and vines, there were four well-kept bikes waiting for them – and amongst them, Paul's very own.

"I retrieved it the night we took you." Marko seemed very proud of himself and, in all honesty, Paul was proud of him – and _grateful_ – too. He had thought he would never see his beloved bike again.

They rode cross-country, first following narrow, uneven trails through the forest, then driving down the beach, going dangerously fast. As they approached the Boardwalk, there were more and more people they had to dodge. Paul was worried that he might hit someone. Maybe half a mile in front of the Boardwalk, to Paul's great relief, they turned right and left the beach, driving the rest of the distance on the road.

At the entrance to the amusement park, they pulled in and got off the bikes.

"Well, Paul … aren't the lights impressive today?" David asked, igniting a cigarette and blowing smoke in Paul's face.

Paul took a step back and, puzzled, looked first at David, then at the merry illumination of the Boardwalk. And took another step back. And another. There were colors in there he hadn't even seen before! And with "before", he didn't mean his first visit to the Boardwalk, but his entire life! He had no idea how he should even describe them. This was crazy!

Dwayne stepped up beside him to put a calming hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry. What you're seeing is infrared. For now, it's only temporary and will pass quickly. But this is how you're going to see the world once you've fully changed."

True enough, the foreign colors faded shortly after and left only the ones Paul was used to seeing. But mere moments later, peculiar sounds started up all around him. It was like a strange, interwoven melody in hitherto unknown tones, which were constantly rising and falling, some of the notes drawn out till they faded to nothing, others vibrating and quivering below them. With huge eyes and open mouth, he turned to Dwayne for answers, but it was Marko who spoke up.

"That's ultrasonic sound, Paulie-boy. It's made by the mice and rats of Santa Carla."

Then, abruptly, Marko went rigid. "Oh no," he said, sounding anything but pleased. "Not again …"

He turned and left the others standing without a word of explanation, hurrying to a side-street a little away from the Boardwalk. David and Dwayne exchanged a glance, then made to follow him. Dwayne took Paul, who was still a little dazed, listening with fascination to the rodents of the town, by the arm and pulled him with them.

As they reached Marko, he was searching about behind a couple of trashcans. When he came up, he held something in his hands. It was a large, long-tailed rat with big, yellow teeth and moth-eaten fur, which, to Paul, looked rather limp and unmoving.

"Is it dead?" he asked, confused by Marko's actions.

"Not yet," Marko replied. There was a tremor in his voice. Paul took a closer look at him, noticing casually that his vision was fairly good, considering that there were no streetlights. Marko looked up, and Paul saw that his eyes were glittering.

The rat made a strange twitching movement which seemed rather unwholesome.

"They poisoned him! I can't even …" Then Marko's voice turned unintelligible, at least to Paul. He made twittering sounds very different from what a human would have been capable of producing, and which sounded quite similar to what Paul still could hear all around him – the constant concert of the rats and mice of Santa Carla. Marko petted the animal tenderly on its head. Then, he made a swift motion with his right hand. There was a crack, and the rat's head was dangling limply.

"You … you killed it …!" Paul was more confused than ever, even or rather because he remembered David's speech about Marko, the rat-lover, now.

"Of course I did," Marko replied. There was something that looked suspiciously like a tear-trail on his face, though it seemed slimy and reddish. "He would've died anyway … but it would've taken him hours!"

Then something evil entered his eyes. "I'm gonna kill it!" he hissed, took a turn, the dead rat still in his hands, and strolled over to the entrance of the house the trashcans belonged to. He chose one bell and rung it.

"Yes? Who's there?" a gruff, female voice came through the speaker.

"Excuse me, madame," Marko said in the sweetest voice Paul had ever heard from him – in fact, it might have been the sweetest voice he had ever heard, period. There was a creepy undertone to it though. "Could you kindly tell me who owns this house? I'm interested in taking residence here …"

"That would be Tony Burnham. But he lives in Los Gatos."

"Do you have the address? Or a phone number?"

After a lengthy pause during which some rummaging could be heard, the woman told him the number.

"That's perfect. Thank you so much," Marko singsonged. "Have a nice night."

"And that's it for Tony Burnham of Los Gatos," Dwayne muttered, sighing.

"It's not out of our hunting grounds," Marko replied, a hard edge to his voice Paul had never before heard from him either.

"It isn't," David said. "Only with Paul, let's make it next week instead of next night, okay, Marko?"

Marko glanced back at Paul. "Okay," he agreed. Then he placed the dead rat directly on the doorstep, so that he could be sure someone would step on it first thing in the morning. "Bye, buddy," he muttered. "Give them a real scare from me, 'kay?"

Dwayne went over to Marko. "Now, let's cheer you up by finding you someone to eat, yeah?" he announced and put a hand on Marko's shoulder, steering him away from both the rat and the house.

They passed through a couple of streets situated directly behind the Boardwalk. Some were rather fancy and populated, others … not so much. Then they took a turn into a narrow alleyway that was framed by decrepit-looking factory buildings from the turn of the century. There were no streetlights. Even narrower footpaths led into the dark between some of the houses.

"There you go," David suddenly said. Almost instantly, Marko broke away from their group, taking several steps towards a dilapidated shed beside one of the ominous footpaths.

"Hello, beautiful," Paul heard him say in that creepily sweet voice of his he had just come to know. "What're you doing here, all alone, in the middle of the night?"

"It's thirty bucks. Pay them or piss off," a scratchy, female voice replied.

David raised both his eyebrows and snorted.

"And I'm only taking one at a time, so tell your friends to stay away from me!"

Dwayne chuckled. "It seems you've chosen a wild one for him, David …"

"He can handle her," David answered dismissively. "Come on, Paul, let's have a look."

Paul wasn't too sure if he wanted to, but Dwayne took him by the arm once again and together, they neared the dingy, dirty shed. Anew, Paul noted that his night-sight had definitely improved _a lot_.

The shed was really more of a three-walled shelter. Marko was squatting in front of it, opposite a scrawny, disheveled girl that looked closer to death than life.

"She is," David whispered into Paul's ear. "She's a heroin addict, and she's been for almost three years. She's selling her body to finance her habit. Her heart is close to giving out on her. She's sixteen, and her name's Liza."

"How do you know?" Paul whispered back, awed.

"We can read them, remember?"

"I told you to send your friends away!" the girl hissed, clearly both furious and frightened. "Go away! All of you! Fuck off!"

Marko lifted his hands in mock surrender. "It's alright, darling. They won't touch you – you've my word on it. They only wanna watch …"

Paul noticed a strange and enticing scent. With a jolt he realized that he could smell the girl's fear, and that it did arouse him. Positively _arouse_ him.

"If they wanna watch, tell them that's ten bucks extra – each."

"We're right here, deary," David answered her evenly. "We can hear you, you know. You can talk directly to us."

The girl seemed to really look at them for the first time. Then she shrank further back into the shadows. "Go away …" she whispered once more. "All of you … please …"

Marko shook his head. To Paul, he seemed almost sad. "Ah, but I can't, hon," he told her. "It would be such a senseless waste …" Marko's voice had changed. It now had an almost hypnotic quality to it. On all fours, he crept towards the girl with the disturbing, animal-like grace Paul had first observed at the pool-incident. "I'll make you enjoy it … Come on … relax … relax …"

Amazed, Paul saw that the girl actually seemed to react to Marko's words in the way he had intended. She laid her head back and allowed him to touch her shoulder. He drew her closer, and it looked as if he caressed her back with his hands. Then he took a firm hold of her and struck, biting into her neck. The girl made a surprised and pained sound, but, judging from her reaction, Marko couldn't have been half as brutal as he had been when he had intended to kill Paul.

"It all depends on his mood," Dwayne told Paul in a not-so-hushed voice. "It's the same with all of us. She's one of the lucky ones. He's still somewhat subdued because of the rat, and that can make him either mellow or bestial. So she's really, _really_ lucky that, this time, he turned out suave."

Once again, Paul smelled a very enticing scent, but this time, it hit him full force. 'It must be her blood,' he thought, intoxicated. "God, I _want_ it …"

Some of the strange colors were coming back, and the foreign sounds were louder than ever. There was a prickling sensation all over his skin, and then a pain like he had never experienced exploded in his stomach. He went down on his knees from the assault, feeling as if something were trying to claw its way out of him. He screamed, and then there was David, who lifted him up and hugged him to his chest.

"Hurry up, Marko!" he heard David command through the haze of pain. "It has begun for Paul. – I don't care, just snap her neck! – Dwayne, find someone suitable and bring him to the cave. – Marko, you come with me _now_!"

That was the last thing Paul heard before everything went black.


	7. Chapter 7

When Paul opened his eyes, Marko was looming over him. They were back in the cave.

"He's awake!" Marko called, and a heartbeat later, David appeared beside him.

"How are you feeling?" David asked.

Paul pondered the question for a moment. "Tired," he then replied. "But otherwise okay, I guess." He sat up on the couch. "What happened?"

"You've entered the last stage of the change. It's a little different for everyone. For some, it takes two or three days, for others weeks until they reach it. Your body's craving for blood now. The only thing left to do to complete the process is to make your first kill."

Paul swallowed. "What happens if I don't?" he asked timidly.

"I told you. We kill you." There was such absolute certainty in David's voice that Paul half wanted to recoil from him.

"It's still a choice," David said, "if a dire one. We won't force you to become one of us, but if you deny, it ends here and now."

"Now?" Paul croaked with an effort.

"Now," David affirmed. "So make your choice, and make it quickly, for Dwayne's already on his way with your first human."

'Does he _have_ to remind me that it's a _human_ I'm supposed to kill …?'

"With you, I play with open cards, Paul. We'd all love you to become part of our family, but in the end, it's your choice."

Paul cleared his throat with an effort. "Has anyone ever denied?"

"Yes," David replied steadily.

"And you've …?"

"Yes." Just as steady as before.

There was silence.

"If you don't want to …" David began. "We already sort of like you, so we'd make it as painless as possible … even pleasurable …" There was a red gleam in his eyes, and his crucial teeth seemed to elongate a little as he spoke.

"No, no, no!" Paul hastened to reply. "I just wanted to be sure … You know? Of the alternatives?"

"Yes. Sure," David answered. There was still a tinge of red in his irises, and his voice was two octaves deeper than usual.

Again, there was silence.

"So … Are you sure then?" David asked after at least a minute had passed.

Paul took a deep breath. He really wasn't sure of anything, not anymore, but he certainly didn't want to die. He wasn't exactly looking forward to killing "humans", but he supposed he would somehow get over it once he was a vampire. Even if David and the others still scared him, he also had started to "sort of like" them. And being a vampire definitely had its perks – a lot of them, actually. Flying, super-senses, almost complete invulnerability … not to forget the "never grow old" stuff. Paul guessed that he was up for a change … or rather, _the_ change.

"Yes," he said, fully aware that both David and Marko had followed each of his thoughts. "If you still wanna have me, I'm gonna go through with it."

A broad grin appeared on Marko's face. "Excellent!" he exclaimed, and then he practically fell on top of Paul and hugged him. David smirked, extending his hand. Paul disentangled one of his arms from Marko and shook it.

"Welcome to the family, Paul," David said, his smirk turning into a cordial smile. "You won't regret it. I promise."

'These guys make an awful lot of promises …' Paul thought. He hoped that they would, and could, keep them.

As if on cue ('And maybe that's the case,' Paul mused.), Dwayne appeared in the entrance to the cave. He had a young man with him, a boy really, who couldn't have been older than eighteen. He looked like a nerd, with a checkered shirt and huge, thick glasses. He seemed very nervous, too.

"Hi guys," Dwayne greeted them. "This is Matthew. I met him on the Boardwalk and told him about our place. He was practically dying to see it. So I thought I'd take him …"

"Hello Matthew," David said jovially, while Marko gave a little welcoming wave. Paul managed only a strained nod. "Come on in. You're invited."

Awkwardly, Matthew slithered down the steep slope at the entrance. He had to use his hands to keep himself from falling.

Meanwhile, David leaned down towards Paul and whispered: "Look at him. Look real sharp. What do you see?"

At first, Paul saw nothing but a nerdy, insecure teenager who stared in awe at both the cave and the older, way cooler guys that inhabited it, and who looked very much out of place while doing so. But then, it was as if a veil had been drawn away, and something from out of the boy spoke to Paul.

"He's eighteen," he whispered back. "His name's not really Matthew, but Rudolf, but since all the kids at school kept teasing him about it, he's chosen Matthew now. 'Now' is since he ran away from home on his eighteenth birthday. He's gay, and he hasn't told anyone. He left because he thought his parents would never understand. He's probably right."

"Very good!" David clapped him on the shoulder and nodded appraisingly. "Do you see more? Do you see his future? It will not be as clear as his past, but you may perceive the direction in which it will likely be going."

"No … I see nothing … only a dark fog …"

"That's the likeliest path, Paul. You only see darkness because he's going to die tonight. But there are other, if unlikelier, possibilities. Look out for some colors …"

"But … but there are none. There are some places where there's a lighter gray, but if I try to focus on them, they always cloud over again."

Once more, David clapped him on the shoulder, but this time, his hand stayed there and squeezed. "And that's why Dwayne chose him, Paul," he explained quietly. "This boy _has_ no future. Everywhere I turn to look, his life goes out in darkness. Maybe he kills himself, or he dies in a hate crime … It doesn't matter. It's not necessarily because he's gay, but he's marked. We know when we see one. That's how we choose them. – Come on now." He gave Paul's shoulder an encouraging pat. "Let's give Matthew a good time for the first time, so that both of you will be at peace in the end."

While they had been talking, Marko had sauntered over to the kid. "Do you like birds, Matthew?" he asked and stretched out his arm. He made a sort of cooing noise. Several pigeons came down from the rafters, flying about him. Then two landed on his arm, another on his head.

Matthew made a surprised sound, then laughed, clearly impressed.

"You gonna like it here, Matty," Marko assured the boy, smiling. "I'm Marko, by the way." He offered his gloved hand, and Matthew shook it. He was smiling as well, but it appeared to be a little disbelieving.

"Just look at him," David spoke under his breath. "He's already fallen for our lost little angel."

Marko glanced at David as if he had heard and leered at them. He surely didn't look like an angel now – more like a cankered demon. But from where he stood, poor Matthew couldn't see the expression on his face.

'He must have heard. They all probably hear it from a hundred feet away if someone so much as scratches his head.'

"That's an almost accurate guess, Paul," David chuckled. "Come now … Let's join the party."

They both stepped up to Marko and the boy. Dwayne was busy in the background, filling some glasses with orange juice and what looked like, but probably wasn't, water.

*It's vodka,* David informed him, and with a jolt, Paul realized that he had spoken in his head. Unsure, he glanced at their leader, who just nodded at him.

David extended his arms in a welcoming gesture. "Matthew," he said. "I daresay you came a long way to find us. So be our guest. Enjoy your stay. It might be the experience of your life."

Dwayne came over with two glasses and handed one to David, the other to the boy. David raised his drink and spoke again: "My name's David. I'm the leader of the pack. You've met Dwayne and Marko already, and this is our beloved brother Paul."

"Hi," Matthew muttered rather coyly.

"Drink. Have fun," David prompted him and took a deep draft himself. A little awkwardly, Matthew copied him.

*He has never drunk hard alcohol before,* Paul thought, trying to reach out to David mentally.

*I know,* David replied. *Vodka's almost tasteless. He'll hardly notice, and he won't need much of it.*

Marko fetched the boom box and placed it on the ledge of the fountain. When he pushed the button, The Doors started to sound through the cave. It was Riders On The Storm, which Paul thought somewhat fitting.

Matthew really didn't need much to loosen up. Two glasses of vodka with orange juice and one single joint did the job nicely. He soon tried to flirt with Marko in a very clumsy, yet strangely endearing way, and even danced through the cave with both him and Dwayne to the chords of Break On Through. There was a kind of feverish desperation in everything he said or did.

A bit more than an hour into this sorry little party, David nodded to Marko, who instantly switched on his charm like a light-bulb. He waved Matthew over and invited him to sit on the couch with him, then proceeded to fuddle him with vodka. Matthew was positively glowing from being so close to Marko, and he completely derailed once the vampire put a hand on his knee. His insecurity and despair were almost painful to watch.

Marko released the poor kid from his doubts about whether or not these guys would kill him if he revealed himself to be gay and actually _into_ one of them ('If he only knew,' Paul thought dolefully.) by taking him by the shoulders and kissing him. He was surprisingly gentle, and Paul somehow got the feeling that being around Matthew made Marko almost as sad as discovering a poisoned rat. Marko and Matthew made out to the sounds of When The Music's Over, and Matthew was positively crying while they were kissing.

Paul watched them, not knowing what to think about all of this. Then there was a pat on his shoulder, and David gestured him over to join the two. So this was it, then. Hesitantly, he stood. Marko looked at him from over Matthew's head, who was currently sobbing his heart out against the vampire's chest, and smiled at Paul. It seemed rather subdued. Paul walked over to them and sat down on the armrest of the couch. The boy's head flew up and he looked at Paul, both vexed and scared.

"Don't fret," Marko soothed him. "Paul's a very nice guy. If he does something to you, he has only your best interest in mind … So I'll just go a little further south" – with this, he gently untangled himself from Matthew and went down on his knees in front of him – "and busy myself here," – he zipped the boy's jeans open and started to pull them down – "while my good friend Paul will take care of all of the rest of you."

Marko then took a hold of Matthew's penis, and with that, all doubts and fears appeared to have left the boy. He moaned deeply and laid back against Paul, who, after a moment of indecision, took him into his arms and held him tight.

'What now?' he thought and looked beseechingly at David.

*Let your instinct take over* was all he got though. So he leaned into the boy, nuzzling his neck with his lips, while poor Matthew received the first and last blow-job of his life. When the boy climaxed, crying out and rearing up in Paul's arms, Paul gripped him firmly … and then it just happened. He felt something strange overcoming him, as if it were rippling through his body and subtly changing it on its way. It didn't take longer than two or three seconds, and then, for the very first time, he could feel his predator's teeth. The infrared vision was back, as well as his extraordinary hearing.

While Matthew was still trembling with the last ripples of orgasm, Paul took him by the neck and bit down into the pulsating vein he saw there. Matthew cried out again, but this time, it was with pain, not pleasure. Paul was completely inexperienced, and although he really didn't want to hurt the boy more than he absolutely had to, he probably did exactly that.

But before these thoughts could stop him from what he was doing, the blood flooded his mouth and he forgot about everything else. It was absolutely delicious, pure bliss, and it was not separable from the emotions the boy was feeling right now. Every single one of them added a different spice to the heavenly liquor, and all together made the most opulent meal Paul had ever had.

Dimly, he was aware that Marko was still busying himself with the boy, trying to soothe him, even though no one any longer pretended that everything was alright and that this was just about fun, partying and sex. Paul could _taste_ that Matthew knew he was going to die, and the kid was so disappointed about it that it nearly turned his blood sour. Once again, Matthew had been betrayed, and just as things were going well for the first time in a long time, just as he had dared to hope … Paul knew that feeling all too well, but he simply wasn't capable now of doing anything to comfort the boy.

But exactly that was apparently the job Marko had taken upon himself, who allowed Matthew to cling to him through the pain and fear, stroking his sides and telling him that, no, he was not a loser, not at all, and that it wasn't his fault, and that it had nothing to do with him being gay, that, no, they didn't hate gays and they certainly didn't hate him, and that this really was the only gift they had to give to humans, and that he was actually lucky to have been chosen, for this was about to save him from things a lot worse. Paul didn't find all of this exactly consoling, but maybe it didn't really matter what Marko said, only that he talked to the kid at all, petting and comforting him through the whole ordeal until he fell unconscious from the loss of blood. And even then, Marko still stayed by his side, one hand resting on the boy's stomach, drawing soothing circles there. Paul knew exactly why he did it, for he too could sense that, in a way, Matthew was still aware of what happened to him – even after his heart stuttered and gave out.

*He's still here,* Paul told the others in wonder.

*Yeah,* Dwayne answered him. *They often linger for a while. Don't let it bother you. He'll pass on soon.*

After this information, Paul parted from Matthew's body with some care, and even arranged the boy's limbs in a less haphazard manner, although it felt strange to do so.

Marko was kneeling on the ground again, watching Paul intently. He seemed worried, yet Paul didn't know why. He opened his mouth to tell Marko that he was quite alright, in fact, much better than he had expected to be.

That was when he was hit by a wave of pain that was worse than anything he could ever have imagined.

xXxXxXx

"Okay, I got him …"

"Hold him tight now …"

"Could you hurry up?!"

"Damn it, I said, _hold him tight_!"

"Shush, Paul, it'll be alright …"

"Finally!"

"Now shhh … shhh … calm down … calm down …"

Paul couldn't sort their voices out, but he could feel their hands all over him. Every touch hurt like fire searing his skin. He couldn't see, even though he was quite sure that his eyes were open. It was fucking scary, and the only thing that comforted him a little were their voices. He was dimly aware though that he was already _better_ and had been much worse, so bad that he had been unable to do anything but scream and flail around. Now, a dull heaviness was spreading through his body. The feeling was slightly disquieting, but he couldn't bring himself to bother. This was so much better than the pain …

*It's the morphine. It makes you dazed and sleepy. Don't worry about it.*

*David?*

*Yes, it's me. You're currently very sensitive to sound, so I thought I'd rather talk to you this way.*

*The others …?*

*… are here as well. There's really nothing to worry about, Paul. This may be fairly unpleasant, but it's the usual process. You'll be fine.*

*Dwayne …?*

*I'm here, Paul – as is Marko.*

*Yeah, Paulie-boy. I wouldn't leave you now …*

*Skin hurts … hot … all over …*

*I know. We're going to undress you. Maybe you'll feel better then.*

There were hands on his body, stripping him down, and for a moment, the ache intensified. The fabric of his shirt felt like a grater as it chafed over his skin. Someone was moaning in pain. Maybe it was Paul himself. He couldn't be sure.

Then all his clothing was off, and most of his skin was touched by nothing but air. In a way, it was better. But now he felt entirely exposed and vulnerable.

*Scared …*

He projected a picture of himself into their minds, all naked and alone in a sea of black, the darkness closing in on him and threatening to swallow him whole.

*You're not alone.*

Someone was hugging him, drawing him close. It made his skin burn again. He uttered a pained whimper.

*Marko …?*

*No, it's David, but it doesn't really matter.*

*Hurts …*

*You gotta strip, David. He can't stand the feeling of fabric on his skin.*

*How about we all strip? Then we can take him in the middle. He's scared of feeling alone …*

*Well, strip then. I'll follow right away …*

There was some rustling of fabric, and people were shifting around him, rubbing their uncomfortably rough skin over his. When everything settled, he felt better though. He could make out three different bodies, all snuggled tightly against him. There were also three individual and very distinct scents that he hadn't consciously noted until now, but which calmed him down nevertheless. If he became uneasy, soothing voices spoke to him in his head. They had different inflections from when they were speaking aloud, so he had some trouble to keep them apart, but as David had said, it didn't really matter. His brothers were all around him, and even if he hurt, he was safe with them.

They stayed like this for a long time. Paul could feel things inside his body shifting around, and other things in his body dissolving, and he was frightened by it, but at the same time, he was way too tired to really care. Besides, he still was with all of his brothers, and they were with him, and as long as this was the case, nothing else really mattered.

Paul didn't know it, but it took more than a night and a day until the process was completed. During this time, the only one who moved was David, who injected Paul every two hours with large doses of morphine.

After twenty-eight hours, Paul opened his eyes. He was looking at a whole new world, and it stretched its arms out to welcome him.

 

xXxXxXx

**The end.**

xXxXxXx


End file.
